


Redemption

by sethra2000



Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: F/M, M/M, Please be gentle with me, Possible Mary Sue I don't know it was only my ssecond fic ever....
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-08
Updated: 2012-07-08
Packaged: 2017-11-09 10:18:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/454383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sethra2000/pseuds/sethra2000
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The inspiration for this particular piece was the two episodes in the fifth season entitled Comes a Horseman and Revelation. Those two episodes and Timeless have made me quite a Methos fan (not to mention Peter Wingfield).</p>
<p>The end of the episode Revelation struck me as somewhat jarring. Duncan and Methos appeared far too friendly in the final scene than seemed plausible after the conflict of the previous scenes. This prompted me to explore the fact that more time than was alluded to, had passed between the end scene at the abandoned submarine base and the tag scene at the graveyard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Duncan slumped wearily against the wall, looking down at the still oblivious Methos. He was definitely getting too old for this. He knew he should probably go to Methos, help him, comfort him, something. But he also knew that he was not ready to forgive and forget quite so readily as he would wish. Somebody else would have to give what ever help was required, and he hoped that that somebody was arriving sometime soon. He could hear his friends pain in the subdued sobbing that echoed in the vaulted cavern, the only sound, apart from his own ragged breathing, to break the thunderous silence that had fallen after the din of the Quickening. He’d be suprised if it hadn’t wakened the dead. 

Duncan’s head jerked up, as again he felt the approach of an immortal.

Raising his sword in shaky hands he made ready to defend himself, thinking that maybe Cassandra had come to take her wrath out on him.

To his eternal relief it was Ketana.

The small woman was dressed in a black tight fitting outfit, much like a burglar would wear. Her waist length hair draped over her shoulder in a heavy single plait. She approached Duncan, ignoring the body of Kronos as she stepped over it. Crouching before him, she took his face in her small warm hands.

“Duncan, are you Ok?” she asked anxiously

“I’ve been better” he muttered darkly

Ketana smiled at his answer, Duncan would be Ok, it was Methos who concerned her at the moment and she threw him a worried glance.

Noting that glance, Duncan asked “What about him?’

“Right now he isn’t your concern. You have to see to Cassandra, and yourself for that matter. I’ll deal with Methos. I’ll take him to the church, he’ll be safe there if Cassandra takes it into her head to go hunting. Even she wouldn’t break the rule about holy ground.”

“I can’t just leave him like this Ketana” Duncan protested

“Yes, you can. I hate to say this Duncan, but you’re probably the last person he’d want to see right now” she stated bluntly to avoid any arguments, “And you probably don’t feel much like talking to him, if you think honestly about it. You both need time to distance yourself from events” she finished firmly, daring him to contradict her accurate reading of his thoughts.

A wry smile tugged at Duncan’s lips as he agreed with a nod of his head. He had after all forced Methos to take sides against people he had considered brothers. He had forced him to come down from the fence on which he had been sitting for centuries.  
“I just hope it isn’t permanent. He’s an arrogant pain in the ass sometimes, but I’ve gotten used to having him around” It was about as close as he was going to get at the moment, to admitting that he would miss the mans friendship.

Ketana had to laugh at that statement “Duncan love, you’re too good for this world, and that’s God’s own truth” she said fondly, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead “Now go”

Duncan groaned as he hoisted himself to his feet, leaning heavily on the railings.  
“What about Cassandra?” he asked laying a hand on Ketana’s arm

“I think you’ll find she’s probably gone back to the hotel. Tell her what you know Duncan, she might listen”  
“And if she doesn’t?”

Ketana sighed regretfully a knowing smile curving her lips “Then she doesn’t. When you’ve harboured vengeance in your heart for that long, you can’t just let it go. It’s become the only thing in your life and you will do anything to hold on to it, I know. Go to her Duncan, offer everything that you can. But remember, it’s not your fault if she refuses to listen” and with that piece of advice she turned and made her way down to Methos.

Ketana approached him slowly, with extreme caution, weapon held ready to defend herself, he was, after all, still in possession of his sword and in a very unpredictable emotional state.  
When it seemed he had chosen to ignore her presence, she knelt before him and gently touched the side of his down turned face. He flinched from the touch, head jerking up to see who had intruded upon his solitary hell.  
The person before him was not who he had expected, somewhat perversely he felt a flicker of anger that he would be denied what he felt was his destiny. This must be Ketana, he wondered what her presence here meant.

“Methos, we have to leave here, now!” 

“Go away Ketana, I’m not in the mood for making new friends” he stated harshly.

“I’m not going away, for some reason, and I can’t for the life of me figure out why, Duncan thinks you’re worth saving. So here I am. I’ll probably regret it later of course, but for now it seems like a good idea.”

The coldness of her tone seemed to get his attention, which had been her intention all along.  
“Then why don’t you just finish it now” he snarled

“Oh please” she said rolling her eyes heavenward “Martyrdom doesn’t suit you at all you know, you’re too pragmatic for it” she answered, her tone heavily derisive, acting like a bucket of cold water in the face, his eyes blazed and his breath hissed through clenched teeth. Ketana refused to look away from his fierce gaze.

“What would you know?” he demanded savagely

“More than you think, but now is not the time for it. We have to leave here, the police are bound to be on their way, I have a place on holy ground where we’ll be safe, should Cassandra take it into her head to do some hunting. Not even she would break that rule”  
He came to the conclusion that she wasn’t going to let him die in peace and grunting in acknowledgment he started reluctantly to his feet. To his dismay he found himself so weak that he had to lean on Ketana to stand. He took a few moments to steady himself, allowing Ketana to take as much of his weight as she could. He was silently amazed at how strong she actually was, her apparent size was deceptive.

After a slow journey to the surface, the sound of sirens in the far distance added an extra urgency to their pace. Methos was relieved to note that his strength was returning and gradually he leaned less on Ketana, allowing them to hasten their progress, by the time they reached her concealed vehicle he was walking on his own.  
She had parked the Rover 4x4 behind a concealing copse of trees and as they approached she disarmed the alarm, causing the lights to flash. Opening the passenger door she tossed her sword into the back seat before making way for Methos. Closing the door after him she ran around to the drivers side and climbed in, starting the engine. With only the side lights on, she eased the Rover out onto the road, taking the back way by which she had arrived. The well kept engine purred quietly to itself, the occupants remained silent.  
Methos didn’t want to talk to anyone about anything, Ketana just concentrated on driving in the poorly lit darkness. The sound of the sirens which had been getting closer, now faded into the distance as they left the submarine base. Ketana glanced over at her passenger, he was slumped in the seat, head back and eyes closed, although she doubted he was asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

They drove in silence until they reached the secluded church that was Ketana’s home when she was in France. Pulling the Rover in behind the church, where it was hidden from the road, she killed the engine and slumped back into her seat with a sigh.

“So this is it?” Methos asked indifferently, breaking the long silence.

“Oh so you are talking then. Yes as a matter of fact it is it. Not up to you’re oh so high standards I suppose”  
It took him a moment to realise how that had sounded, he had the good grace to look embarrassed  
“Sorry” he apologised “That’s not how I meant it.”

“Apology accepted” Ketana answered.

Opening the door and climbing out of the cab. Walking to the back of the Rover she opened the hatch and hauled out a large duffel bag, propping it against the bumper as she closed and locked the hatch. The sound of a door closing told her that Methos had gotten out of the car too, she was somewhat suprised when he appeared at her side offering to take the awkward bag.

“Allow me” he said swinging a courtly bow, which looked somewhat out of place in modern clothes.

“Thank you. I see that chivalry isn’t quite dead” she replied with a smile.

“I was borne long before chivalry was invented, personally I’ve always found it a waste of time. I think it just gets in the way most of the time.”

“Gets in the way of what?” Ketana asked, suspecting she already knew the answer

“Survival” Methos answered bluntly

“Ah yes survival. Tell me Methos, if survival is your number one priority, then why are you back in the game?”

The question seemed to take him by suprise, he stopped as they reached the door and Ketana turned, waiting for an answer. “Well, are we going to stand here all night while I wait for an answer?”  
“If you want an answer to that question I guess we’ll have to.” Methos answered

“It has something to do with Duncan, doesn’t it.?” she asked, staring up intently into his eyes, trying to catch a flicker that would answer her question. But, she guessed, you didn’t live for 5 thousand years without learning to conceal your thoughts and emotions.

Well, then a warning was appropriate at this point, she had a feeling that she could get to like this man, but the cards had to be layed on the table up front. It avoided misunderstandings later on.

“Because if it does, be warned Methos. Duncan means much to me, if anything at all happens to him, and I mean anything, and I find that you were at fault, then you will answer to me. And don’t let my size fool you, I’ve had at least as much experience in the art of killing as you have”. Ketana stated, using a voice that had made battle hardened soldiers blanche.

Methos blinked, in the space of 30 seconds Ketana had changed from a petite charming woman, to a force to be reckoned with. He fully believed that he would have a serious fight on his hands should he choose to ignore her warning. He wasn’t however going to let her know that.

“Are you threatening me?” he asked mildly, “Is that any way to treat a guest. I am your guest I take it?”

“Threatening you, Methos darling, I never threaten, I simply state facts.” Ketana answered, reaching up to pat him gently on the cheek. She turned then to unlock the door, leaving Methos to ponder her words.

Opening the door she entered, holding it open she gestured for him to enter, “Welcome to my humble abode” she said, pride showing through in her voice.

Methos was impressed, he had seen many churches in his time, most of them grander by far, this one however ,had something about it that took the breath away. The wood seemed to glow with an inner luminescence, whilst reflecting the prisimed light that streamed in from the exquisite leadlight windows. Everywhere fresh flowers were placed in crystal vase’s, scenting the air with the promise of spring.  
The traditional alter decorations were all in place, however, only the first two rows of seating were still in place. The rest of the church had been converted to a small but comfortable living area.

“It’s beautiful” Methos stated, reaching out a hand to caress the wood and finding a silky smooth texture.

“Thankyou. It’s always nice to have your work appreciated by another” She acknowledged, shutting the door. Coming to his side she reached out her own hand, placing it next to his.

“You did this?”, suprise coloured his voice.

“Learning how passed the time, and I had a lot of time to pass. It was also somewhere to hide from the world when I needed it. It’s still a church, and this is still holy ground, it was never deconsecrated. This is the one place in the world that I would truly call home.” she brushed his hand with her fingertips, “It’s yours for as long as you need it”

Methos felt his breath catch at the electric touch of her skin on his, he knew instinctively what this place meant to her and was honoured by her offer. Still, despite everything he had to ask “Why?”

She withdrew her hand and stepped away, moving towards the alter, the answer was not an easy one.  
To his suprise Methos found that the absence of her presence at his side was a physical feeling that he found unpleasant, almost unconsciously he moved to follow her. She had stopped at the alter rail and stood lost in thought, her arms wrapped around herself as if for comfort. A curious and unfamiliar feeling of protectiveness for this woman, who only minutes before had been threatening his life, came over him. Stopping behind her, he did not reach out to touch her, but stood close enough that she would feel his presence, and so that he could again feel hers.  
Taking strength from his presence behind her Ketana spoke.

“At first it was because of Duncan. Joe contacted me, he said Duncan was in trouble, so I came to help him. Joe wasn’t to specific over the phone, but he explained everything to me when I arrived.”

“For someone that’s not supposed to get involved, Joe does a lousy job” Methos commented wryly

“He cares, that’s all. Duncan is that kind of man. He was brought up by an honourable man, to lead his clan, that has never changed. Duncan makes loyal friends because they know that he will be there for them, besides I owe him”

“And the other reason?” Methos prompted when it looked as if Ketana had become lost in thought.

“You.” she answered, turning to face him.

Even with a poker face Methos could not help but let some of the suprise he felt show in his eyes. He had very nice eyes Ketana noted, like dark pools that drew you in, or could just as easily freeze you out she suspected.

“Why?” he asked again, some of the confusion he was obviously feeling filtered into his voice

“Because Duncan asked me to. He cares for you, you know. Because I know what you’re going through, I’ve been there and I had no one to help me.” She said reaching up and placing her hand gently on the side of his face.

Methos closed his eyes, as much to savour her touch as to hide his feelings. Ketana’s voice interrupted his revere.

“We can’t stand here all day you know, my arm will fall off. Why do all you men have to be so tall?.” she murmured to her self. “Would you like something to drink?”

Methos opened his eyes and looked down into hers, seeing the same reluctance to share deep and powerful emotions as he himself felt, but also a willingness to try, if he needed it.

“Love one” he said imitating her pragmatic tone, willing to go along with her change of subject  
“Anything in particular?”

“Whatever you have” he said, stepping aside to let her pass before trailing along behind.

Ketana made her way to the small kitchenette, trying to keep the turmoil of her emotions from showing on her face. It had been along time since she had truly opened up emotionally to anyone, it struck her as ironic that that person had been Duncan. Her mortal husband had died in a car accident, she had been devastated. Duncan had been there for her and she always paid her debts. Opening the fridge she found a bottle of champagne, she turned lifting the bottle for Methos’s approval “Will this do?”

“Champagne, what do we have to celebrate?” he asked in a bitter tone of suprise.

“If you have to ask that question, you’re in more trouble than I thought. How about the fact that Duncan and Cassandra are still alive. How about the fact that you’re still alive!” she replied vehemently

Methos stopped short, taken off guard by her anger. “You’re right of course” he apologised “I guess I’m just indulging in the rare feeling of self pity, I’d forgotten how ill mannered it was”

“Oh my, Methos of the Silver Tongue is what they should have called you” she stated, deciding to let it pass for now.

Methos just smiled and nodded acknowledgment of her sarcasm.

She handed him the bottle “Would you do the honours while I get the glasses?” she asked “The corkscrew is in the second draw down” she cut in before he could ask.

Stopping before a large antique cabinet she removed two crystal goblets from the shelf before returning to the kitchenette and placing them on the bench. By this time Methos had the corkscrew set and seemed to be waiting for her. “I’ve never been very good at this” he admitted.

“I’ve never met a gentleman who couldn’t de-cork a champagne bottle before” Ketana teased

“And I’ve never pretended to be a gentleman” he retorted

“True” she admitted, “Here, let me” she said taking the bottle from his hands and expertly removing the cork with a loud pop. Champagne immediately bubbled up over the neck of the bottle, as she tried to get as much as possible into the goblets. Shaking drops of champagne from her fingers she offered one to Methos, before taking her own and raising it between them

“To life” she toasted

“To friends” Methos responded as they brought their glasses together, the ring of crystal shimmered through the open space of the church.

Both savoured the champagne for a minute.

“One compliments the ladies taste in Champagne” Methos said grandly, saluting her with his glass

“Why thank you kind Sir” she responded, dropping a graceful curtsy with an imaginary dress.

 

“Would Sir care to be seated?” She asked, continuing to play the part she gestured elegantly towards the black leather lounge suite in the far corner.

Methos nodded and following her gesture preceded her to the large four seater couch. Ketana sat down on the single chair opposite, curling herself into it like a cat settling into a favoured perch.  
The silence stretched out, Ketana seemed to have drifted off into a world of her own. Methos scanned the room, learning what he could about its owner.  
The church itself had an ancient air, enhanced by the dark polished wood beams and panels. The smooth finish stone walls were hung with large tapestries, Persian rugs making a patchwork of the polished wood floors. The overall effect was one of warmth and comfort, this place was a refuge more than a home.  
Antique Oak furniture had been placed tastefully, the cabinets and tables full of curios. Curiously, although not out of place, weapons displays dotted the walls, filling the spaces left by the tapestries. They seemed to be almost exclusively of the bladed kind, swords, axes, daggers, pikes. He smiled to himself thinking how appropriate it was, given the owner.  
The original lighting fixtures had been retained, however they had been carefully modified to handle electricity without damaging their authentic air. The only concession to modern comforts were several electric table lamps, one on a desk and one on either side of the large bed. A large state of the art sound system hid unobtrusively in an oak cabinet, again Methos smiled to himself, he could fully understand that indulgence.  
Even the kitchen looked rustic, he had a feeling that should he look he would find modern appliances hidden away until needed, forbidden from intruding on the harmony that had been achieved.  
The overall effect was one of a wish to pay homage to a simple past, but with a desire to move forward and not remain fixed in that past.  
Upon closer inspection he also found that the apparent ‘picture perfect’ effect was also an illusion. He noticed piles of old magazines and books stacked tidily under tables and on chairs. There was a kind of organised chaos to the placement of the small statues and curios as if each was vying for the attention of the occupant, they almost cried out to be picked up and inspected. He suspected that it was an effort to make the place feel welcoming, and had to admit that it worked.

“I hate coming home to a picture perfect house, I immediately feel like I shouldn’t move, let alone touch anything.”  
The sound of Ketana’s voice in the silence made him start, he turned back to face her and found her watching him through lidded eyes.

“Reading minds now are we?” he asked, keeping his voice even.

“Just call it a woman’s intuition” she replied smiling sweetly at him.

Methos had the feeling that she had been watching him all along, and made a mental note not to underestimate her in future.

“I think we’ve dispensed with the social pleasantries, so lets get down to business ......”

“And what business would that be?” Methos interrupted, knowing perfectly well what she meant.

Ketana decided to ignore his attempts to delay the inevitable and went straight to the heart of the matter. “Whether you like it or not Methos I will help you, and before you tell me that you need no help hear me out. You may be older than I but in this my knowledge is greater, and before you ask, the reason I will help you, is that despite what you think, you are a good man. You would not still be Duncan’s friend if you weren’t.”

Ketana was pleased to see relief flicker across his face before he managed to get his emotion under control.

“I would be interested in hearing your definition of good” Methos commented sarcastically “Because it certainly doesn’t tally with mine”

Ketana sighed in exasperation, so he was going to be stubborn about this then. Well so be it.

“We are none of us saints Methos, not even Duncan. Although he is one of the very few that even comes close, along with Darius maybe. Beating yourself over the head for eternity because you’ve done some things you regret is nothing short of a waste of a life.” Ketana retorted bluntly.

“Done some things I regret” Methos exclaimed incredulously “The things I have done could never be forgiven by anyone, not even you.” he finished flatly

“You are so wrong. Duncan has forgiven you, he just hasn’t admitted it to himself yet, but then what either Duncan or I do is not the issue here. Methos, you need to forgive yourself!” she pleaded “Give yourself the right to say ‘Yes I maybe immortal, but I am still a human being with all that that entails. Being immortal does not make us above human error, or blind stupidity for that matter.”

“And Cassandra?”

“You said anyone, not everyone” Ketana replied, annoyed at his negative attitude.

“Your words are all very fine, but do you have any idea what you are asking?. When Joe was ‘Explaining the situation’ to you did he tell you the whole story, did he tell you of what I am guilty. That I enjoyed what I did ....:

“What” Ketana interrupted hotly “That you enjoyed the killing, the pain and fear that you inflicted on others, the torture and the rape. No he didn’t tell me any of that, but he didn’t have to, I’ve heard the legends. You’re wrong you know, I do know what I’m asking.” she said, looking him in the eye and holding his gaze with hers “You see, I’ve been there, done that.”

Her use of the somewhat jaded catch phrase of the Bored 80’s took him by suprise, Methos seemed to at last be lost for a witty comeback, she thought the look on his face would have been comic under other circumstances.

“You of all people Methos, should know that people are very seldom exactly what they seem, every human being wears masks, pretends to be someone else, we immortals more than most. What do you see Methos, when you look at me? Do you see someone capable of the things you say that you are guilty of?” she asked the question in a quiet but firm voice, her deep brown eyes holding his gaze so he could not look away.

Try as he might, all he could see was a petite Japanese woman, long black hair framing her fine almost elfin features. She sat at ease, the goblet of champagne held almost negligently in her right hand, the picture of the demure oriental woman. Then, before his eyes she changed. Subtle changes in posture and expression altered her beyond recognition, transforming her once clear eyes into opaque mirrors, a painfully familiar sneer marred her once beautiful features. Her posture became one of barely leashed in violence that would have been felt clear across the room.

“Nice trick” Methos stated, barely keeping any reaction from showing in his voice, even to himself he sounded unsuccessful.

“Yes, it is rather.” she replied, relaxing back to her former demure self. “At least I’ve always found it to be effective.” she replied, a veiled reflection on his reaction.

Methos sighed and leaning back into the support of the couch, made himself comfortable. He figured this was going to be a long night.

“Ok, I’ll bite, you’re going to lecture me on the futility of recriminations and self-loathing, aren’t you?” he asked, his tone only half joking.

“No Methos, I know only too well the futility of lecturing a man about anything. No I’m going to tell you a story. But before I start I’m going to change and start a fire, it’s starting to get a little chilly in here”

“I’ll take care of the fire” Methos volunteered, anything to take his mind off the coming event. He had a feeling he was going to be told some things he’d rather not hear.

Ketana rose gracefully from her chair and crossed to the bed, where she knelt and slid a draw from beneath the base, withdrawing a pair of silk pyjamas she rose and went behind a screen to change.  
Methos drew his eyes from the silhouette behind the frosted glass screen, firmly turning his attention to the log fire set into the lounge area wall. Quickly setting the fire, he struck a long match from a box sitting on the coffee table and lit it. Hungry flames engulfed the kindling, crackling as if in thanks. He carefully placed several larger pieces of wood on the fire and closing the door sat back on his heels to watch the flames through the glass front, mesmerised by their flickering dance.  
The scent of roses, and soft hands on the back of his neck startled him out of his trance, almost causing him to overbalance.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you” Ketana said, laughter adding a touch of insincerity to her words.

“Do you always sneak up on people?” Methos asked, startlement and her laughter making his tone sharper than he had intended.

Ketana chose not to make an issue of it. “No, I just save it for special occasions. It’s another of those tricks I’ve learned” she replied “Would you like me to show you a few more?” she asked. Kneeling behind him she slipped her hands around his waist and leaned her chin on his shoulder.

Her warm breath on his ear caused a shiver of pleasure to ripple through his body, whilst the things she was doing with her hands under his sweatshirt caused his breath to quicken. His efforts to reply were hampered by a suddenly dry mouth. He closed his eyes, fighting a loosing battle to control his composure and his breathing, not to mention other things.

“Ketana, please stop” he managed, albeit reluctantly, when he managed to get his voice under control. “I thought you were going to tell me a story?” desperation had started to settle in at this point.

Ketana laughed softly, pleased that she still had her old touch. She took pity on him and her hands ceased their distracting actions, although she did not take them away. She smiled to herself when Methos took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“Methos love, don’t ever make the mistake of assuming for one minute that women are the weaker sex. That was one of the most important things I ever learned. It sickens me that even today women think they are powerless against men” she said

“So, was that the point of this little demonstration?” Methos asked pointedly

“Not really, I just wanted to see if I could still do it. It’s been a while since I last had the opportunity.” she replied, mischief in her voice.

“I pity the last man who was on the receiving end” Methos said forcefully “He never stood a chance”  
“Why thankyou” she replied graciously acknowledging the implied compliment.

Removing her hands from around his waist and placing them on his shoulders, she pushed herself to a standing position, before delicately stepping around until she stood in front of him, kneeling so they were eye to eye, her hair falling like a velvet drape around her shoulders and brushing his hands.

“Relax, make yourself comfortable, this is going to be a long night”

Methos sighed and did as suggested. With a cushion from a nearby chair he leaned back against the heavy glass centred coffee table, stretching his long legs out towards the fire.  
Before he could comment Ketana had insinuated herself into his embrace, settling herself between his outstretched legs and leaning back before draping his arms about her like a blanket. To Methos’ s suprise there were none of the sexual connotations of before, just a desire to be close and derive comfort from another human being. He realised with a guilty start that what Ketana was doing was not in anyway easy for her and she was doing it for his benefit. He tightened his embrace briefly to let her know he understood.  
For several minutes Ketana was silent, drawing comfort and strength from the man behind her. His response to her and his understanding of her need, told her once and for all that he was a man worth saving from himself. So she would tell her story, however painful long buried memories would be, in the hope that he would hear more than the words.  
She drew a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and began her story.


	3. Chapter 3

“Hah, and what am I thinking right now?” he asked, a clear innuendo in his voice, as his hand slid down her neck to cup her breast.

“Well, let me see, this could be difficult.” she replied, gasping as he growled, nipping her earlobe in feigned anger.

Later, much later, Methos lay staring at the vaulted ceiling. Ketana slept at his side, their legs tangled with the sheets, and each other. He smiled to himself, blessing the fact that small wounds healed fast, Ketana had very sharp fingernails. He savoured the quiet peace that had settled on the small church, broken only by the faint sound of the birds in the trees outside. It couldn’t last though, Kronos, Silas and Caspian might be dead but he knew there were more things in his past that would be back to haunt him. Cassandra was uppermost in his thoughts, one of so very many regrets. He had no doubt that her need for revenge had not simply vanished with Duncan’s plea to spare him. She would be back, and he had absolutely no idea how to face her.

“So much for five thousand years of wisdom” he muttered to himself

“You’ll just have to cross that bridge when you come to it, or maybe I should say, when it comes to you.” Ketana’s soft voice broke into his revere

“I see your psychic powers have returned Madame Gypsy” Methos observed calmly, refusing to be startled by her again.

She chuckled to herself, “Oh yes, I always find it works better after a little exercise” she replied archly

“That was more than just a ‘little’ exercise” Methos corrected emphatically “I think you’ve probably done some permanent damage” he continued in a mock aggrieved tone

Ketana snorted in an unsympathetic manner and set about disentangling herself from him, and the sheets.

“I’m for a shower before I eat, How about you?’ She asked, grinning suggestively at him as she slipped on her discarded robe.

“Enough woman!” he replied emphatically, “Are you trying to kill me or something.” he ducked just in time to miss a pillow aimed at his head.

“In that case, old man, you can get dinner ready because I’m starving” she said, making her way to the bathroom.

Methos sighed flopping back into the soft pillow and the warmth of the covers. Minutes passed and he decided he’d better get up and start dinner, or he’d never move. He climbed out of bed, shivering slightly in the cool evening air, a fire was probably appropriate he thought to himself.  
He found his clothes where they had been discarded the night before. The thought of having a shower then putting on dirty clothes did nothing for him, so he gritted his teeth and put them on, he’d stop off at the apartment and change before going on to Duncan’s. He set the fire and then moved to the kitchen to start the meal.


	4. Chapter 4

Ketana stood under the steady stream of hot water enjoying the almost stinging pressure of the water, it felt good like millions of tiny fingers massaging her body. Her mind ranged back over the past 2 days, she was amazed how much she had changed in the space of those 2 days. She felt freer than she had felt in centuries, the burden of her terrible guilt had been lessened, not lifted, she did not think it could ever be lifted it was just somehow less than it had been. She fervently hoped that she had been able to do the same for Methos, he was so good at hiding his feelings that one. You practically had to be a mind reader to figure him out. She was just lucky that she was an excellent student of human behaviour, although she found it amusing how little it helped her understand her own problems. It took a stranger to hold up the mirror of understanding. It would still be difficult, she knew that, you don’t just change centuries of habit over night. But that first step had been impossible until Methos had shown her the way. Turning off the shower, she stepped out and wrapped herself in a large soft towel off the rack before wrapping her hair in another. She opened the small window and watched the steam escape into the cool evening air, which caused goosebumps to form on her arms, so she quickly exited the room draping her robe about her. The delicious aroma of cooking wafted towards her and her mouth started salivate in sympathy with her grumbling stomach.

“That smells absolutely divine” she exclaimed as she neared the kitchen “What is it?”

“Nothing fancy” Methos replied concentrating on adding something to the pan, “Just an old recipe I picked up”  
“How old?” Ketana asked jokingly

“You probably don’t want to know” He answered with a grin.

“Well no matter how old you’ve done a great job with what I managed to pick up in a hurry. I usually have more time to shop.”

“Why thank you” Methos replied with a small bow. “In fact I’m almost done, it should be ready by the time you’re dressed”

“Great”

Ketana sipped her orange juice, washing down the last bite of what had been a very good meal. Methos had been mostly silent throughout, and she could guess why.

“Worried about what you’re going to say to Duncan?” she asked, sure that that was the problem.

Methos smiled weakly at her, not even willing to joke about mind reading. She sighed and reached across to take his hands in hers. 

“Just talk to him Methos, Duncan’s not dumb, he knows it will be hard for both of you. But if you value his friendship, and I know you do, then you have to sort this out”

“What’s it like being right all the time?” Methos asked smiling to take the sting out of his words.

“I’ll let you know” she replied smiling back.

Methos stood to gather the dishes, but Ketana put out a hand to stop him.

“You’re procrastinating again” she said, “I’ll do that”

“Again” Methos answered, “You’re the one who contrived that little diversion awhile ago” he finished.

“Yes, I know.” she stated, refusing to acknowledge any guilt, she rounded the table to stand beside him, taking his hands in hers.

“I believe you can do this” she said simply, then she raised his hand to her lips and placed a kiss on his fingers.

“Thankyou” Methos answered, putting a wealth of meaning into that one word.

They both stood silently for a moment, each unwilling to bring an end to the time they had spent together.

“I hate goodbyes” Ketana said, “So I’ll say farewell”

“Until we meet again” Methos responded, bending to place a long and very passionate kiss on her lips that left them both gasping.

“I think you’d better go, before we get side-tracked again” Ketana teased.

Methos turned to leave, stopped and hesitated before turning back to Ketana, an amused expression on his face.

“What’s the matter?” Ketana asked

“Ah, a small matter of transport” Methos replied

Ketana looked at him blankly for a few seconds, before a smile crossed her face.

“Oh dear” she laughed “I completely forgot” she turned and went back to the kitchen, where she picked up a set of keys and returned to hold them out to Methos.

“Here, take mine” 

“What about you?” Methos asked, hesitating to take the keys “I don’t want to leave you stranded”

“You won’t” she replied “I have a car in a garage out back. You can return it tomorrow, or whenever.”

“You’re sure?”

“Unless you want to walk all the way back to Duncan’s” she replied

“Ok, you’ve convinced me” 

“I’m so glad” she replied “That way you have a good excuse to come back”

“Do I need an excuse?” Methos questioned, his tone serious

“No, not really” Ketana answered after a slight hesitation.

“Good” running his hand through her silken hair and down the side of her face, he kissed her once more and left.

Ketana resisted the urge to call him back, no matter how much she wanted to, it would be selfish. She would see him again soon, she was sure, if only to return the Rover.

After ten minutes of driving in silence, Methos could stand it no longer, switching on the radio he pushed buttons until he came to a Classical station. He let the music fill the cab, turning the volume up until it was just below painful.  
This part of the road was deserted so he sped up, not wanting to face too much time alone with his thoughts before he faced Duncan. Deliberately blanking his mind, he let the music carry his thoughts, driving on automatic until he reached the busier city streets where concentration was needed to navigate the traffic.  
He pulled up in front of his apartment, sitting for a few moments in the quiet after he had killed the engine. Then moving quickly he got out, grabbed his sword from the passenger seat, and armed the car alarm. Striding quickly to the stairway entrance he took the stairs two at a time until he reached his floor, his breath coming only slightly faster. He made his way to his apartment.  
Throwing his coat onto the couch he went straight to the shower, striping off his clothes as he went.  
Twenty minutes later he was dressed in clean clothes and ready to go, he decided though that it would probably be a good idea to check that Duncan was in first. Picking up the phone he dialled Duncan’s number, unsure if he wanted someone to answer or not.

“Macleod” answered the familiar voice

“Mac, it’s me. I think we need to talk” Methos answered

“Ok, Where?” came the reply.

The answer took Methos by suprise, did Duncan no longer trust him?. Was their friendship so far gone that he no longer wanted him to come to his home, for it was obvious that Duncan wished to meet on holy ground. With enormous effort Methos kept all feeling from his voice as he answered.

“That small church, about a mile outside Paris, Do you know the one I mean”

Silence, then “I know it. I’ll be there in an hour”

“Right”

The click on the other end sounded so final, Methos slowly replaced the handset. Well, nothing left to do but face the music, so to speak, he thought to himself gloomily. Something that Duncan said nagged at him, past the pessimism of his thoughts. He had said he would be there in an hour. Methos knew it wouldn’t take an hour to reach the church from where Duncan was. What then could delay him?. Another futile question, he chided himself. Nothing to do but go there and wait.  
Sweeping the keys from the hall table and his sword from where it lent next to the door he concealed it in his coat. This time he took the elevator to the ground floor. Unlocking the Rover he tossed coat and weapon onto the passenger seat and started the car, only to be startled by the almost deafening sound of Beethoven’s 9th from the speakers. Cursing to himself for his jumpiness, he fiddled with the volume knob until he had it at a more acceptable level, then throwing it into gear he accelerated out of the driveway.

Twenty minutes later the Rover rolled to a stop in the small gravel, car park outside the church. Methos looked around, no other vehicles were present, which meant that he had indeed arrived first. Slumping back into the seat he switched off the engine, leaving only the radio going. The afternoon sun threw elongated shadows across the carefully manicured lawns, as the gloomy strains of Adagio plodded from the speakers. Methos sighed and switched channels, all he needed was morbidly gloomy music in his current mood. He leaned back into the comfortable seat and closed his eyes, intending only to rest while he waited for Duncan to show up.

Methos jerked awake, a tingling sensation coursing through his body, and reached for the sword that lay on the passenger seat. Eyes darting about his surroundings, he relaxed as he spotted Duncan approaching the Rover.  
He cursed himself for a fool before opening the door and stepping out.  
Duncan nodded a greeting, his expression revealing nothing to Methos about his mood, Methos nodded in return.

“Sorry about the cloak and dagger stuff” Duncan started “But I had to be sure Cassandra wasn’t following me. She had left her hotel before I returned and I had no idea where she had gone to. I don’t think you’re the most popular person in her books at the moment, I was worried that she might try and trail me to get to you” he finished.

Methos felt relief wash through him, he let out a breath that he didn’t know he had been holding.

“I think that’s the understatement of the millennium” he stated, his usual brand of humour reasserting itself now that he was sure that he still had Duncan’s friendship.

“Yeah, well, wherever she is, she won’t forget you, Cassandra holds a grudge for a long time.”

“Well, as someone told me recently, I’ll have to cross that bridge when it comes to me” Methos replied

“So, how is Ketana these days?” Duncan asked, his tone loaded with more than one question.

“She’s an incredible woman Mac, what can I say”

“That she is, my friend, that she is” Duncan replied, clapping Methos on the back with slightly more than friendly force, before turning towards the church’s cemetery.

Methos rocked a little from the blow, he suspected that Duncan had guessed some of what had happened between himself and Ketana. Was he jealous? No, Duncan wasn’t the possessive type and he and Ketana weren’t in a relationship. A warning perhaps?. Well he didn’t need one, he would never hurt Ketana.

He turned to follow Duncan, lengthening his stride to catch up. He fell into step beside him, trying to decide how to start a conversation he wasn’t looking forward too. Several minutes later, and still silent, they had made their way into the cemetery proper, the late afternoon sun throwing long shadows off the headstones and statuary.

“So” Methos started “Am I forgiven yet?” he asked his tone wavering between jest and entreaty.

“I don’t know” Duncan answered, his tone neutral.

“I see” Methos replied, a little hurt, but not really suprised, he wasn’t sure he would forgive himself were he in Duncan’s shoes.

“Ketana’s quite a woman” Methos started when the silence lasted too long.

“I think you’ve said that already” Duncan replied.

“Yes, I believe you’re right”. Methos said, before lapsing into awkward silence again.

Duncan glanced over at his friend, Methos was gazing off into the distance his face troubled. Duncan decided that to hesitate any longer could be considered cruel. No matter how hard it was for him he could not continue to allow Methos to torture himself with doubt. He had spent the last two days coming to terms with the unwanted revelation that a man he had thought of as almost a saint, despite self proclaimed evidence to the contrary, had in fact been a mass murderer on a scale close to Hitler. To say that it had been a shock would be the understatement of the millennium, but then Duncan had times in his life that were less than savoury to say the least. So could he honestly hold a past that was so far back as to be beyond living memory, so to speak, against a man who was now, if not a saint, better than some and no worse than most. The answer to that, of course, was no. However, that did not mean that ‘forgive and forget’ was going to be easy.

“I’m glad Ketana could help” he started, “She’s very good at it. She’s helped me through some rough times. I think she finds it easier to forgive than most people.” Duncan finished, placing special emphasis on ‘forgive’ as he looked Methos in the eye.  
Duncan’s eyes showed the meaning of his words and Methos knew that this was the start of putting their friendship back together.

“She certainly does, I guess I find it hard myself” Methos stated

“But you must have known that Kronos would come for you one day?” Duncan asked in a not unexpected change of tack

“I tried not to think about it” Methos answered in a slightly evasive tone, as he turned to walk away.

“You could’ve killed him. Why didn’t you”

Methos paused and waited for Duncan to reach his side, “I wanted to, but we were Brothers, in arms, in blood, in everything except birth, and if I judged him worthy to die, then I judged myself the same way. And I wanted to live. I still do” he finished in a quiet voice, turning away.

“Kronos was right, you set the whole thing up” Duncan accused, anger beginning to colour his voice.

“What do you mean” Methos asked, knowing full well that Duncan was right.

“You knew that he’d come after Cassandra and you knew that I’d come after her. You couldn’t kill him, but you knew I could.”

Methos flinched inside at the hurt in Duncan’s tone. Yes, he had used them both.

“Maybe” was his only answer as he turned and walked away

“Methos” Duncan called after him, not yet willing to let the subject drop, “What about Cassandra?”

Methos stopped and turned back to face Duncan. “One of a thousand regrets Macleod, one of a thousand regrets.” he replied before resuming his walk.

Duncan in his turn, was shocked at the pain in that reply, realising perhaps for the first time that in his own way, Methos must have cared for Cassandra.  
Duncan caught up with Methos, placing a hand on his shoulder he exerted a gentle pressure hoping that Methos would stop, for a fleeting moment it seemed as if he would continue on his way, shrugging off the restraining hand, but after only a fleeting hesitation, he halted.

Duncan stepped in front of Methos, making sure to catch and hold his gaze, “I understand regrets” he said, trying to convey much that could not, for now, be spoken aloud. 

Methos knew what Duncan was saying. Duncan understood the feelings that he had for Cassandra, feelings that he could not acknowledge directly, “She was the reason I changed Duncan, after her the pleasure in what we did died. She was the reason I left Kronos and the others, why I gave up the game.”

“I know” Duncan replied simply, squeezing Methos’ shoulder in silent sympathy.

“Forgiveness is something I had given up as unattainable. I have it now from you, and perhaps some day from myself”. he sighed, “Not getting it from Cassandra is something that I have already resigned myself to. It would be nice though” Methos finished in a quiet, almost wistful tone.  
“Methos my friend, you were always more than you seemed” Duncan smiled, knowing now that one of Methos’ most fervent wishes would be to have that forgiveness from Cassandra, despite his frequent and vehement assertions that he cared little for what others thought of him.

Both knew that their friendship would never be the same, and both were equally unwilling to allow that friendship to die. It fell to Duncan, however, to take the first small step towards a rebuilding of trust, he sighed inwardly to himself, ah well he had too much to loose and so much more to gain, he would just have to learn to accept Methos for what he was. It would not be easy, but then, he reasoned wryly to himself, nothing worthwhile ever was. That was one lesson at least that he should have learnt by now.

Sliding his arm around Methos’ shoulders in a gesture of companionship Duncan steered him back towards the parking lot, their course returning them through the ancient cemetery, “You know, I could use a drink, how about you?”

Methos smiled, and Duncan was pleased to note that the old sparkle was back. “You know that’s the best suggestion I’ve heard in far too long” he replied.

END.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is really only my second piece of long fic, and was written a very very long time ago, So if there is anything at all Mary Sue about this then I apologise

**Author's Note:**

> The Characters of Duncan, Methos, The Four Horsemen, Cassandra and Joe Dawson belong to the creators of the Show. I'm just borrowing them for fun, and I'm not being paid for it. Worse Luck :0).
> 
> All other characters are the Author's and cannot be used without the Author’s permission.


End file.
